


Dream Fight

by Highkiller777



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-27
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2017-11-02 14:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highkiller777/pseuds/Highkiller777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My minds take on how Jim and Sebby first met. Note: Dreams do not follow logic so please don't hate me because of my dream!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Fight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what brought this on, but my mind just made up a fairly nice means to how they met.  
> I own nothing!  
> Mistakes are all mine, wrote this directly after waking form said dream around 4-5a.m. and my proofreading is terrible.

Title: Dream Fight

Author: HighKiller

Rating: R?

Disclaimer: I Own nothing!

Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Drunkenness.

Summary:My dreams take on how Moriarty and Moran met. Yeah sometimes my dreams have their own minds. BBC Sherlock.

 

Sebastian downed another round of, what he guessed, beer and lazily took in his surroundings. Bartender talking it up with a customer and cleaning a glass which must have been spotless by now, rowdy couple of men in the corner singing some sort of drunken gibberish, and a suited man with a notebook in his hands in the farthest dark corner of the sleazy bar. Chewing on what Sebastian hoped was gum, people around these parts it was hard telling what they put in their mouths.

Grunting to himself he walked back to tender and paid for his drink, the man previously talking with said tender spoke to him, "Oi lookey 'ere look like some kinder figthin' man by the look o' ya. 'ow bout we test 'em ehh? Got a gamblin' ring down th' street there, could win ya some cash." He laughed seemingly at some joke he thought he made. He shrugged and took off out the door, not before meeting eyes with the mysterious suit-clad man.

He found himself walking aimlessly down the streets until he came upon the local 'gambling area'. He already knew of this place, came here when he got bored and needed to vent of the bordum out on some poor bloke who thought they could win against him. Sniffing he went inside, not once noticing he was being followed.

"Oi oi! Seb has returned!" The head man who ran this little shin-dig knew Sebastian well, he always won the biggest pot when he bet for Sebastian. Giving a small wave he went over to the makeshift 'sign-in' table and put his name down along with few hundred pounds for entry fee. The attendant put his money in a small bag and gave him some gloves and a key to go change.

 

Jim hated travel, dearly hated it. Of all things he easily suffered jet-lag and any other sort of foreign illness to be gotten from venturing anywhere outside London. He especially hated what he assigned as the 'slums' of England, but work was to be done, he received information that a man he had been tracking down for some time was sited near here and this may be his only opportunity to confront this man in person.

He managed to track him into a bar and decided it was time to stalk his prey before finding a suitable means to approach. He watched as the man payed for his drink and begin to leave, his eyes never straying from him. When their eyes met his cocked his head to the side slightly and smiled. Popping his gum when he turned away. 'This is going to be fun!'

 

Moran came out of his changing room rearranging the gloves, mostly just a padded bandage, until it fit snug and perfect to his fist. He walked up to the ring and hopped over the walls and into the area. The crowd cheered and hooted which he paid no mind too, his opponent tried to not let his hesitation show. Cracking his neck Sebastian Moran got into a fighting stance.

 

Jim watched with a leisure attention, two no three rounds had transpired before nobody else seemed willing to jump in and try to beat the man. His smiles widened and spoke up. "I'll do it."

 

Sebastian spat onto the dusty floor when his last victim was carried out unconscious, the owner trying to rile the crowd for another fighter. When none seemed to take he began to leave when a small voice caught his ears. He turned and looked at the man, the same suited man from the bar.

It took a few minutes before his strange stalker entered through the opening making a rather disgusted look at the gloves he was forced to wear. Something about this man struck a cord deep within him, he circled him for a moment trying to gauge how to handle the man. He came up with nothing.

The siren blared starting the match, immediately he struck him across the face making him stumble back until his back hit the wall. He approached and began to strike him again and again. The other never fighting back, but his eyes stayed locked with Sebastian's, a creepy smile upon his face. He backed off when the man fell to his knees, after a moment he stood up and spat out some blood and wiped away the blood form his spilt lip.

Sebastian, even to this day, will never understand how this man could overpowered him with just the sound of his voice. "My Turn~" was the only thing he said before Sebastian came upon him again.

He threw a hook from the left, the man ducked and quicker than anyone could really see, poked Sebastian many times in the chest. None hurt but to Moran it was like getting shot in his pride. Enraged he began to throw punch after punch at the man, all of which are dodged and evaded until he eventually collapsed to his knees from exertion. The crowd had long since gone silent in shock.

The man walked up to him and held out his hand."My name is James Moriarty, call me Jim. I am here to give you employment one which will end your boring life."

 

Sebastian stared at the offered hand for what seemed like hours, though really only seconds before taking it. "Sebastian Moran at your service."


End file.
